


Influence

by Questioning_TrashCan



Series: Count to Three and You'll be All Grown Up [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Backstory, Character Study, Coming of Age, Gen, Growing Up, Original Universe, Royalty, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27079915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Questioning_TrashCan/pseuds/Questioning_TrashCan
Summary: “Mother, how can I tell the future?” Cecilia asks one day in the library.
Series: Count to Three and You'll be All Grown Up [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976395
Kudos: 2





	1. Rose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpotidSalamango](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpotidSalamango/gifts).



“Mother, how can I tell the future?” Cecilia asks one day in the library. Like the rest of the palace, the library is huge, and though most of the books are tucked neatly into the shelves in rows, there are still some stacked on tables and chairs – a sign of them being put to good use. In Cecilia’s lap is a scrap piece of fabric, a half-finished embroidery job sitting and staring up at the girl with her long hair pinned up out of her face. The chair she sits in is soft enough to sink into, and the wooden detailing is beautifully complex, curving into armrests and feet that rest heavy on the rug. The back reaches above her head, their family crest watching over her like a guardian angel.

In front of her is a low table, fashioned from the same silver wood, rolls of parchment laid out across it, books stacked in the corner, a tray with a waiting tea set in the centre, and Cecilia’s embroidery threads, tucked away in a floral box. Across from her, Rose sits in her own chair, a near perfect mirror of Cecilia if not for the book in her lap versus embroidery. 

Cecilia sees why people say she looks like her mother. They are both of fair skin and fair hair, though her Mother’s is due to age rather than birth. She has it similarly pinned out of her face, and they wear similar lounge dresses. They both sit with their backs straight and their ankles crossed at the foot of their respective chairs. Rose does not look as old as she is – magic can keep one young. It also helps that she is an elf and lives quite a deal longer than humans. By elf standards, she is by all means still a young adult. Even a half-blood, Cecilia is but a child.

Rose does not look up as she asks, “Have you tried?” Cecilia tells her she hasn’t, that she hasn’t a clue where to begin. “You must understand I won’t be around to tell you everything,” Rose says, her eyes still scanning the book. She’s always had the ability to multitask in such a way. Cecilia has tried to teach herself, with little luck so far. “You must learn to discover things on your own. No one will just hand you answers when I’m gone.”

Cecilia doesn’t bother addressing _when I’m gone._ She knows it will happen, even if it doesn’t happen for a hundred, three hundred, five hundred years from now. Instead, she asks, “Is that why you’re so powerful?”

Rose looks up, and a smile graces her lips as she meets Cecilia’s eyes. The smile is confident, intelligent. It’s the smile of a woman who is superior and knows it, of a Queen that earned the title. It’s all the answer she needs.

“You’re clever, Cecilia. Anything you need to know, you will discover for yourself. And one day, I hope for you to surpass me.”

Cecilia feels her heart absolutely swell with pride, and she can only give a nod in response as she dives back into her embroidery work. Rose watches her for a moment, then turns back to her book and continues to read. Outside floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the unlit fireplace, snow falls. It twinkles in the sunlight and some flakes melt upon touching the glass.


	2. Lila

Cecilia is five years old when she is first enchanted by dance. She is a nosy little brat not properly trained and takes any opportunity to watch dancers invited to the castle, or even those in the streets of the common people. There was nothing _common_ about dance, she found, no matter where you came from. Dance was instinct taking control of the body. Dance was an expression of passion and love, anger, sadness. Dance was a confession and if nothing else, _freedom._

Dance could be anything you called it, and Cecilia wanted to dance as beautifully as the men and women that performed at the grown up balls.

Lila is the first person she goes to about it, only days after her discovery. Lila is her oldest sister, rapidly approaching her coronation (two years seem so long until it’s suddenly upon you), but able to spare some time to teach her baby sister the wonders of dancing.

They use the servant’s training hall. 

Palace dancers have to have somewhere to train, after all. There are no big parties coming up, though, so it’s free for use. No one will even know they’re there. Lila gets them in light, movable fabrics and takes up the starting position, getting Cecilia to stand beside her and copy as she slowly goes through the motions, correcting when necessary with little nudges.

Cecilia picks up the first dance quite easily, and she feels invincible and quite cocky until Lila challenges her with a more difficult one, and then she quickly becomes frustrated and cranky. Picking up on this, Lila runs her through the one she knows again, and calls it a day. Unsatisfied with that, Cecilia demands Lila accompany her to the library and read to her, which Lila obliges. They sit on a love seat together, with Cecilia’s head in Lila’s lap, Lila holding the book up to her face with one hand and the other resting on her sister’s head, stroking her hair as she reads.

Cecilia falls asleep in about five minutes, snuggled up and warm next to her sister, whose magic buzzes pleasantly and makes her feel at home, as if there were any other place she would call home. No, the palace was merely a place. This, being read to and having her hair stroked by careful fingers, _this_ is home, and Cecilia cherishes the memory forever.

She dreams of dancing with the grown ups in the ballroom and being so amazing at it that the rest of the attendees stop and stare, and it’s but a fleeting fantasy of a small girl asleep in a library, but she cherishes that, too.

Years pass like a bird flittering right under your nose when Lila is there with her, teaching her all she knows. Even long past the age of Cecilia learning how to read for herself, Lila still makes the time to sit with her in the library and read to her until she falls asleep. It makes it easy to cherish such a memory when it is fresh.

Lila’s coronation is the first coronation she attends, and it is the grandest thing little seven year old Cecilia has ever seen. She’s only allowed in for the ceremony and for a dance with Lila (at Lila’s own insistence), and they’re so amazing at it that the rest of the attendees stop and stare, and Cecilia feels invincible and cocky until she has to go to bed and the fantasy is over.

\------------------------------------

The day Lila leaves to live with her new husband in Nevera is the absolute, the absolute worst day of Cecilia’s life. Even with tearful promises of writing and visiting regularly (Nevera is only one city over. As far as moving away goes, Lila is hardly even moving), the thought of her leaving wrenches Cecilia’s heart, and she’s thankful that the farewell party is family-only. She’d rather not disgrace herself with so many ugly tears in front of her subjects. Not to say she’s not embarrassed in front of her other sisters, but at least they are kind enough not to comment. She suspects Lillian says something, but she doesn’t quite catch it with her face buried in the crook of Lila’s neck.

It’s not the end of the world like she thought. Lila is true to her word and writes every week without fail, which Cecilia doesn’t even think to consider the poor messenger that had to carry their mail each way every week when she writes back in great detail, telling Lila about all the things she was missing out on, how good Cecilia was getting at dancing, how her magic was starting to come in, how her piano lessons were coming along. Her letters are riddled with spelling and punctuation errors that Lila corrects in her responses, and Cecilia thanks her every time until she writes perfectly and the corrections no longer come, only updates.

Cecilia is made an aunt when Lila turns twenty-two, and she travels back to Ferrian for the christening, which is where Cecilia gets to meet the child that made her suddenly old. It’s a strange feeling to be older than someone related to her, having grown up the youngest in any setting.

The baby is christened Celdinia, after their late Grandmother, and she takes Cecilia’s finger in her entire hand when Cecilia offers it. It’s a magical moment, and she looks up to Lila with wide, awestruck eyes and an excitable grin. “You won’t think she’s so cute when she wakes you up screaming,” Lila laughs, and Cecilia laughs with her.

At Cecilia’s own coronation, she makes absolute certain to get a dance with Lila. In fact, Lila is the first and only person she asks to dance that night. The dance ends with their foreheads pressed together and their right hands on each other’s necks. A familial gesture specific to Ferrian, indicating brotherhood, respect, and gratitude depending on who it’s done with. For Lila, naturally, it was all three.

Cecilia didn’t have much in the way of friends, which is why sisters must stick together. She has come to learn over the years how unfair her own hand in life is, how she’s been spoiled while her sisters were forced to accept that, though being born first, they would never be worth anything unless they married. Lila was lucky enough to fall in love with the closest eligible man there was and be happy with him. Cecilia was happy for her. For them. It was perfect, a neat little bow tying up a neat little life from which Lila didn’t dare deviate and Cecilia didn’t dare challenge.

Hot breath beginning to warm their faces, they part hesitantly. The separation is made easier knowing that Lila will be staying for a few weeks and she’ll get to see her many times before she had to leave again. That, and the realisation that there seemed to be a waiting line of people who wanted to dance with her.

\------------------------------------

“You know Ferrian well,” Lila praises as Cecilia grins, proud of herself for listing off the trivia she’d memorised. She knew a lot, which was fitting for someone destined to rule it. She knew of the year-round frosty climate from her own personal experience, and how people combated the cold with animal skins and magical charms. She wondered if the animal skins were as soft as the satin bed sheets she’d received a few months ago for her birthday, and Lila delicately tells her that they’re not.

Cecilia lists of her country’s exports, mostly frozen fruit only found in Ferrian, but they have a fairly healthy supply of livestock – hunting birds and stocky horses that were used to the cold temperatures. They also bred a wide array of fluffy, exotic pets. From snow white rabbits whose fur was so thick you’d think to use them as a pillow if they weren’t living to tiny little mice that burrowed in snow and, strangely enough, did just as well in hotter climates. They were bred here but sold well in Delron, a scorching desert city in the far north.

“You know Ferrian well,” Lila repeats. “But what do you know of the other kingdoms?”

Likewise, Cecilia launches into a list of knowledge she’d acquired about their closest and most volatile relationship, Vanderfell. Historically keeping to themselves (especially after the mysterious and sudden death of their ruler some hundred years ago), not much is known about them. The capital is not the most heavily fortified thing this world has ever seen, military cities across the seas do a much better job at that, but they are unfriendly all the same, and have repeatedly turned down offers of alliance.

They still trade, of course, and are on good terms with Delron.

Vanderfell is said to be a beautiful place in fall, the streets covered in leaves that crunched and rodents that came out of hiding as they prepared for the coming winter. It’s a rich kingdom, too, sitting on a huge deposit of jewels that they pawn off to other kingdoms when there is something worth buying but otherwise keeping to themselves. Despite their abundance in Vanderfell, wearing opal is seen as a sign of very high status and wealth in other places. Even with all the rumours of its beauty and wealth, not many outsiders are allowed in for any great length of time. 

Vanderfell had become a mild fixation of Cecilia’s for quite some time now, and she’d had her eyes set on some opals. Cecilia loved jewels just as much as the next princess, and the idea of something being unattainable was as frustrating as it was enticing. She’s have her opal necklace some day.

Delron was far, far away. Covered in sand rather than snow, Delron was a devilishly hot place filled with open, flat lands with most of the common houses built from dried clay – an absurd thing to someone who’d only seen reinforced wood used to construct houses. The flatness of it also boggled Cecilia’s mind, having grown up admiring mountains that stretched ever higher than the spires of the palace. It never snowed there, not even in the winter.

They didn’t use horses to get around in Delron – horses were not built for shifting sands. Instead, they used creatures called camels with flatter hooves that allowed them to traverse the landscape better. They were funny looking things, with bumps in their back (Cecilia had asked Lila if their backs were broken the first time she’d seen a portrait of one) and skinny, skinny legs she didn’t trust to hold all the weight they claimed to.

The political climate there was much friendlier than Vanderfell. Messenger crows were a popular export, as well as hand-crafted metalwork. The strongest swords and the prettiest jewellery comes from Delron. She receives a piece each year for her birthday, “Attempting to gain your trust and hand,” her Mother had claimed when Cecilia raved about it the first time. She took care not to mention her excitement to her Mother after that.

Jurgotta was not a separate kingdom like those previously mentioned, but it was worth bringing up, because it was her newest fixation. A land covered in tropical flora leading directly into the ocean and continuing below the surface, it was completely impenetrable and looked entirely unassuming from the air – even Delron’s messenger crows had trouble finding their destination. They exported fruit that Cecilia had never even heard of, let alone tasted, and was populated almost entirely by Hydranians. At least above the surface. Below, they mixed with local merfolk and above, equally tropical harpies. They all lived in relative harmony together, not having the same level of government that the other kingdoms had.

They pretty much governed themselves, which Cecilia thought would breed chaos instead of delicious fruit, but they’d not had trouble for centuries. Perhaps they could learn a thing or two from Jurgotta.

Cecilia continued her rant long into the night, mentioning smaller cities and their relations to each of the three kingdoms, and Lila listened with rapt attention, smiling and nodding to encourage her, only butting in to correct small details every now and then. 

“Recently there have been a lot of scientific discoveries in Nevera. It’s really good for the non-mages there, to help make their lives easier,” Lila explains once Cecilia begins to run out of steam. “They’re learning about diseases in a new way, so we won’t need to focus so much on developing healing magic to help the sick. I’m helping to oversee it, of course. If you ever get the chance to come visit, I’d love to show you!”

Cecilia gets to see Nevera when Lila makes her return trip a few weeks later, and it’s not all that far from Ferrian, hardly outside the limits of the kingdom, but Cecilia is in awe of everything nonetheless. 

She’d only left Ferrian once, to visit Delron with family on a business trip when she was a child. The journey was long, taking an entire four months, and she remembered being cranky for most of it. Lila had to hold her for most of the trip, playing with her to keep her happy, teaching her little party tricks with her magic. By the end of it, Cecilia was throwing sparklers from her fingertips to indicate excitement, much to the bemusement of Lila and the annoyance of all the others attending.

Nevera is not _nothing_ like Ferrian, it being so close, but the culture is different. The people are hospitable despite not having much to give, and Lila tells her this is how they show appreciation to strangers, that rejecting their offers would be seen as rude, so Cecilia held her tongue and let herself be taken care of, wishing she could return the favour.

Cecilia is used to being served – she is a Princess after all, but it feels strange coming from people that were not hired for that exact purpose. She holds her tongue nonetheless, and makes no attempt to hide how impressed she is with the beauty of the land. The mountains are there, in the distance, but Nevera is situated in a valley, surrounded by walls of stone and snow. It feels as if she is in a giant’s bowl, and she almost expects the earth to shake as a huge hand picks them all up and swallows them whole.

No such shaking begins, and Cecilia puts aside her childish imagination to enjoy the hospitality, the food, the celebrations of her visit. In the company of strangers her sister has come to know, Cecilia feels at home. Beloved, even.


	3. Clarissa

Sometimes, Cecilia imagines what her life would be like had Clarissa not been a part of her family.

Regrettably, imagining this is easy. Despite having lived with the woman all her life, Cecilia can think of no discernible traits or talents Clarissa has. Perhaps she was accidentally secretive, but all the same, she has made no effort to make herself known.

Actually, there is one thing of note about Clarissa. She holds the weakest magic of all of them, and makes no attempt to hide how bitter she is about it. 

Of course, she doesn’t go out of her way to showcase how bitter she is, but Cecilia can tell. She can tell in the way that Clarissa never speaks to her or reacts to anything she has to say. She can tell in the way that when she turns away, she can feel the warning lap of magic at the nape of her neck, as if one wrong move could slice her open.

It was an unsettling, cold feeling, which makes no sense because the entire palace was charmed with warming spells so they had no need for things like animal skins and constant fires. But Clarissa had always felt cold like that.

Clarissa’s coronation doesn’t feel as grand as Lila’s, and Cecilia isn’t sure if that’s because she’s grown and isn’t as easily impressed anymore, or if the mood really has dampened. She supposes she’ll never know. She supposes she’ll also never know what her new husband from Praka sees in her that night, but they announce their engagement only a week later, and then she is packing up to be moved away.

Clarissa is broody and silent for her entire life, up until she moves. And it continues even then, because Praka is not far and Cecilia has few duties until she is of age, so she has the time and the means to visit, which she does with a chaperone, one of her nannies, and a pair of guards.

Cecilia regrets to say that she cannot remember the woman’s name, though her memory is not entirely at fault. She has been nannied by too many women to count, though this is a special day, because Cecilia is ten years old and is no longer in need of one, so she is bringing her most recent one as a gift to her sister. In the event Clarissa has a child, she has no training of her own to raise it with. This is where the nanny comes in. Not that she expects any kind of reaction from her sister, but she received a letter only days ago that she is welcome to stay in her new abode for as long as she likes.

Cecilia doesn’t intend on staying any longer than a week, but the notion is nice, and the stay is just about as pleasant as she can expect. She is shown familial hospitality but given no indications that Clarissa actually enjoys her company, and Cecilia ends up cutting her trip short by a couple days in the interest of being in Ferrian when Lila returns home.

There is not another attempt at meeting with Clarissa, and she makes no attempt in return.

Cecilia is okay with that, she thinks.


	4. Lillian

When Lillian’s coronation is upon them and the palace is crawling with overworked staff trying to put everything together on time, Cecilia is twelve years old. Already having attended the two eldest sisters’ coronations, she is familiar with the etiquette, the standards, the conversations in which she is welcome and the ones she is not. She prays she only intrudes on ones she is not, as she has no interest in conversing. Balls are about dancing, and food, and pretty dresses and important people you pretend to care about.

Of course, she cares for Lillian dearly, but she also understands that this is an opportunity for Lillian that won’t soon present itself again, and if there's one thing Lillian can’t stand, it's people getting in her way. So, as soon as the party starts, she searches for her eldest sister, Lila, who was visiting with her husband. Said husband was talking business with some other important-looking, well-groomed men, so was not opposed to excusing herself to dance with her sister.

The night breathes the same way Cecilia does when she’s dancing. Too quickly, with too much force, and some visiting royals make royal fools of themselves after wine is served. Toasts are made, food is picked from the table and crumbs line the tablecloths. Cecilia weaves in between puffy dress skirts and marble pillars until she is out on the balcony, where she stops dead, realising the balcony has already been claimed.

_“Cecilia!”_ Lillian snaps once she is over the shock of being caught alone with a boy, brow creasing in clear anger. “Go back inside, you little brat.” The boy’s right hand is resting on her waist, the other dropping from her face when she makes a move to chase Cecilia off herself, and she feels a lick of magic at her feet as she scampers back inside and closes the door. It is unmistakably Lillian’s, it nips at her heels like the cold and leaves her skin tingly. She hides for the rest of the night, hoping Lillian would have forgotten about the incident by the time they run into each other again.

No such luck.

Lillian hunts her down of her own accord once the celebrations begin to peter out and the suitors she liked began to retire for the night. Cecilia admits, she should be in bed, and that would have given Lillian more time to cool off and forget about it, but Cecilia is a sucker for parties and no one was telling her to go to bed. Lillian is more done up like a doll than Cecilia had ever seen, and just as livid when she grabs her little sister’s arm and jerks her.

“What do you think you’re trying to do, brat? This is my night. I won’t have you ruining it.” Magic buzzes and stings where Lillian is holding her, and Cecilia tries to pull away, apologising over and over, trying to explain that it was an accident and she hadn’t seen them until she’d already opened the door. Lillian is satisfied with that, but her anger has not quelled when she lets Cecilia go.

Not three months after Lillian’s coronation, she is married in Ovrulon and moves away. None of the Ravawynn family is invited to attend, and the last time she sees Lillian is when she sends her off with her soon-to-be husband. 

The send-off is only a small gathering of family and servants of Lillian’s household that were leaving with her. They say their goodbyes – Lila and Clarissa are away in their own respective kingdoms and can’t make the goodbyes, but Cecilia reads aloud the letters they’d sent as soon as they’d heard the news. Lillian comments on the stutter, then climbs into the carriage. Cecilia lowers her head in a small bow as the carriage is put into motion and driven away, the telltale clip-clop of hooves on cobblestones cushioned only by a thinning layer of snow fading as they got further and further away.

When Cecilia comes of age, they receive news that Lillian’s fifth child is on the way. Cecilia reads the letter to her family gathered around in the court, voice clear and pronounced, and it isn’t until she’s finished it that she realises she hasn’t even met the first child. She is an aunt several times over, and she has yet to meet any of the children making her so.

Perhaps this is for the better, but Cecilia feels a sting in her chest startlingly similar to the feel of Lillian’s magic, and idly wonders if she’s angry, all those miles away.


	5. Cordelia and Lacie

Cordelia has, aside from Cecilia, the most potent magic of all the sisters. She has a heart too open for the world she was born into, and an affinity for jewellery that rivals even Cecilia’s. 

Lacie is much the same as he older sister, only marginally weaker than Cordelia in terms of magic (and she suspects that’s more due to disuse than anything else). She is fiery in personality, quick with wit, and an accomplished stylist. Lacie is the first person Cecilia goes to when she is unsure of what to wear for an event.

The three of them became very close friends after Lila moved away, and took interest in learning how to play instruments. While Cordelia found a special talent for the harp and Lacie the flute, Cecilia took pride in learning as many instruments as possible, picking up pieces from both sisters and at the same time, learning the ways of the piano, the viola, the cello. She was a one-woman orchestra. None of them possessed any talent in singing, but Cordelia and Lacie were more than happy to play for her while she danced.

In a word, it was comfortable.

As well as they got along, however, fights were common amongst them. Cecilia thinks it’s impossible to avoid when spending so much time together, and they have to take time apart to cool off before they’re ready to speak again.

In a way, Cecilia appreciates the fights even more than the calm, nurturing reassurance of Lila, or Clarissa’s blatant coldness. At least this way, she can be sure she knows what the two of them are thinking, because they scream as much to her face when heated.

They are not the type to take things back. Cecilia does not take back what she says though she apologises for it, and the two older girls are the same. There is no point in taking back things you mean, but you can apologise for them and move on.

The concert hall is a grand, high-ceilinged show of wealth and architectural prowess. It is far from the only stage utilising such a feature, but when they host plays here, the orchestra can be moved below the stage to make room for actors. If the music is the main attraction, they can be raised back up. Almost dusty from disuse, however, the girls sit in a circle, plucking at their respective instruments in a soft, idle tune as they converse.

Cordelia has been rather irritable as of late, and it wasn’t until last night that Cecilia found out why, overhearing a conversation with her and their Mother through the closed kitchen door. Cecilia knew very well she was not meant to be up and sneaking pastries from the kitchen, so she did not make her presence known, but she _did_ overhear Mother chiding Cordelia. “By your age, Lila was already wedded with a child!” 

Twenty-two and unwed, Cordelia snapped back with, “And what of Lillian? Is four children not enough for you? With the way she’s going, I’m sure she can have enough children for all of us.”

It was not her business. Cecilia excused herself out the other door, silent as a mouse, and went to bed.

“You don’t get the same treatment we do,” Cordelia sulks, her fingers plucking delicately at strings she’d tuned herself and cared for despite the room being majorly unused. Usually Cecilia would mimic Lila’s calm demeanour to de-escalate the situation, but anger suddenly bubbles to the surface and her pale brows scrunch in a deep frown.

“I don’t,” Cecilia agrees. “But that doesn’t mean I’m treated any _better_ than you, I’ll have you know.”

Cordelia, perhaps not expecting an equally annoyed response, balks at her younger sister as her hands promptly drop to her lap.

“In what way are you not?” Cordelia demands, beginning to rise to her feet and only stopped by Lacie, who puts a hand on her shoulder and pushes her back onto her cushy stool.

Cecilia stands, too far away to be stopped. “Do you even know I’ve never received a magic lesson from Mother?” Her voice cuts like a knife and echoes around the empty concert hall. Cordelia opens her mouth to retort, but Cecilia isn’t done. “Do you know the expectations put on me not just by her, but by our people? By even _you?_ Do you know how hard I try to be kind to everyone, only to be shoved aside if I’m inconvenient? I’m expected to rule one day, and all you can do is sit there and berate me for how _privileged_ I am?”

Cordelia stands, and Lacie takes a step back. These fights have never turned physical, or utilised magic, so she’s not worried about that. All things considered, this is just a wave in their relationship, a swell of the sea before they crash, level out, and are friends again. It happens often, and Lacie is often part of the argument, too. For now, she sighs and set about cleaning her flute to put it away while the two of them argue.

“Oh, I’m sorry _Crown Princess,_ would you like me to bow down and make your life even easier for you? Would you like me to fluff your pillows and tell you how smart you are for figuring magic out all on your own? Congratulations, baby sister, you’ve done it!” Sarcasm drips from her thin mouth like syrup.

“And all you have to do is marry someone wealthy and live an even cushier life than me,” Cecilia jabs, gesturing angrily. “You don’t have to rule. You don’t have to govern. You can sit back and suck on grapes for the rest of your life and no one would bat an eye!”

“You think that’s what I want?!” Cordelia’s eyes are wide, pleading, confused. “You think I _want_ to spend my entire life as someone’s arm candy, wasting away to nothing as years go by?”

“Isn’t that what you’re _doing?!”_ Cecilia asks incredulously. She takes a step towards Cordelia, and Lacie perks, ready to intervene if necessary.

For once, Cordelia seems to be at an impasse, and stutters for a response before her face settles into a glare, one that takes Cecilia by surprise. This was no longer a spat that would just blow over in a matter of hours. This was personal now, but Cecilia wasn’t about to take it back. It was the truth. An angry heart speaks the mind of the silent, after all.

Cordelia leaves in a huff, pushing past Cecilia on the way, and Cecilia is seething with an anger she’d not felt so intensely in a long time. Lacie asks her to take a moment, and Cecilia breathes with her, but she still retreats to the garden anyway so she can calm herself. 

Lacie comes to find her after Cecilia’s out there for a few hours by herself, and sits beside her on the steps of the pavilion. 

“Talk to me,” she says gently when Cecilia doesn’t immediately do so.

“I’m annoyed,” Cecilia admits.

“Good,” Lacie encourages. “Go on.”

“I’m annoyed at Cordelia for acting as if I’m greater than her. She thinks the world is unfair and I’ve just been handed this title with no drawbacks, with no work to be put into it. I’m grateful for the title, of course, and I won’t let anyone down, but it’s not the walk in the park she thinks it is. I think...” She takes a deep breath. “I think, if what she said this afternoon holds any truth, she is jealous of me because she wants a challenge. She doesn’t want to be an, an accessory. I understand that, I do. I feel it too.

“She and I aren’t so different, as much as she hates me for being so.”

“I don’t think she hates you, Cec,” Lacie puts a hand on Cecilia’s shoulder. “I think she hasn’t quite decided where to direct her anger, so it seems to be falling to you in this circumstance. Like how I did a little while ago when Mother started bringing marriage up with me.”

“I’ll admit, I’ve been spared that talk,” Cecilia huffs a laugh.

“You’ve no need for it. You’ll rule regardless. We have to marry into other families to get the same luxury.”

“Delia doesn’t want to rule,” Cecilia huffs again.

“No, probably not,” Lacie agrees. “But can you blame her for being upset that the option isn’t handed to her as readily as you?”

Cecilia thinks about that for a moment, turning over the words in her mind, sighs, and shakes her head. “No, I see your point.” She’s quiet for a moment when a breeze starts, blowing hair back from around her face, and she can feel Lacie looking at her, waiting for confirmation. “I’m ready to speak to her when she is,” she says when her hair settles again. They’ve done this enough times that they can pick up on each other’s cues fairly easily.

“I’ll go get her,” Lacie smiles, patting Cecilia’s shoulder gently as she stands to go find their sister and reconcile. 

It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last, but Cecilia had faith they could find their way back no matter what they fought about.


	6. Lila

Lila dances with Cecilia in the courtyard, challenging and praising all at once. There is no judgement in the banter or the playful pushes, just love. Once sick of trying to best each other at dance, Cecilia challenges Lila to a battle of magic, which has historically always left a younger winner. And, occasionally, a destructive path behind them. 

Lila agrees on two conditions; that they only cast the same, non destructive spells, and that everything is aimed away from her watching husband and child, who were seated on a marble bench nearby. Cecilia agreed, and then magic was crackling through the air, causing it to rain in specific plots, animals to come out, and glitter rain down from the sky.

They are evenly matched at party tricks, so Cecilia smiles and says, “I learned how to tell the future,” and kneels beside the Summer-warmed pond too quickly to see the look of shock, awe, and uncertainty on Lila’s face. She looks back just too slowly to see it, seeing only a proud smile. “What do you wish to know?” The water ripples with waiting magic, lying dormant but buzzing with life.

Lila’s request takes a moment to come as she looks back to the water, looking for an answer to a question she had not yet asked.

“Are you happy?” a familiar voice finally asks, and Cecilia is surprised enough by it to turn and look again, eyebrows raised. 

“What kind of question is that?” She asks, smiling, brushing it off. “Of course I am.”

“You asked what I wished to know about the future,” Lila pressed gently, kneeling beside her sister and placing a hand delicately on her shoulder. “I wish to know if you stay this way.”

Cecilia looks back to the pond and summons the answer. The water ripples inward from the edges, shuddering and shaking as an image appears. It reflects her own face, though in the water it is scrunched up and crying. In physical pain or emotional, Cecilia can’t tell looking at it, and it sends a chill down her spine.

_“No,”_ she says simply in her family’s tongue, yet another thing Lila had taught her. The image fades. _“I don’t think I do.” ___


End file.
